It certainly is cold outside. And there is the fallen snow all crunchy and crusty on the ground. But it isn’t properly wintry with that blasted summertime sun shining brightly in the sky. Give me some clouds! Throw in some wind. Make my windows and my bones rattle. That makes for weather.
This sunny tranquil stuff isn’t good for getting things done. I have a pile of books and room full of laundry — all of it needs my attention — but it doesn’t feel right today. The sun depresses me.
The winter sun shining reminds me of those lonely walks to the ice rink when I was the only one who wanted to go skating. My brothers and friends — not one and the same group back then — would stay indoors and watch Star Trek reruns while I stubbornly put the skates on my hockey stick and hiked up to the ice rink hoping the Stone brothers wouldn’t torment me when I got there.
But mostly the shining sun reminds me that snow is not falling. There are no sun showers in winter.
I am in the mood for nothing but a romantic snowfall, big tea saucer flakes slowly falling from the sky. Something dark and moody. Grey skies and white flakes. That sort of thing.
In winter heaven it snows constantly, I think, and never gets more than a foot and a half deep…unless you go to the Winter Adventure part of heaven where it snows like the devil and winds howl straight from the gates of hell. That’s a cool — and dangerously cold — part of heaven. (Bundle up.)
Instead I’m stuck here. In some undeserved wintry purgatory, squinting toward the sky looking for a bank of clouds to roll in and…alas…no such thing.
Guess I’ll stay in bed.
- Skating Santa fired from Rockefeller Plaza ice rink (upi.com)
- advent 7 (scharment.wordpress.com)